


Piping Tips

by sarahyyy



Series: MasterChef AU [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, MasterChef AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras’ eyes widen in understanding. “You wanted to bake our wedding cake.”</p><p>Grantaire nods tightly and draws away from Enjolras, letting his arms drop to his side. “I know it’s stupid,” he says, sounding absolutely miserable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piping Tips

**Author's Note:**

> For Karol [caroll-in](http://caroll-in.tumblr.com/) who says she isn't tired of this verse yet. :)

They’re walking back to their apartment after the latest cake tasting, fingers laced together, when Enjolras decides to break the silence. 

“You look sad,” he says cautiously, and tugs on Grantaire’s hand so they come to a stop. He meant to say something back when they were still with Floréal, but it hadn’t seemed like the right time. 

Grantaire flashes him a tiny smile. He looks tired, but the smile is a sincere one. “Enjolras, we’re _getting married_ ,” Grantaire tells him. “How can I be anything but out of my mind with joy?” 

Enjolras brings his free hand up to smooth over the crease on Grantaire’s forehead, and says again, “You look sad.” He presses his finger to Grantaire’s lips to preempt him from saying anything. “You were frowning a lot at the cake tasting. Do you have a problem with the way Floréal is designing the cake?”

“God no,” Grantaire says quickly, “Floréal is brilliant. The cake tastes wonderful and the sketches for it look great.”

“There,” Enjolras notes, brushing his thumb over one corner of Grantaire’s lips. “You’re doing that thing with your mouth again. If you’re not happy with what she’s doing, we can talk to her about it, work something else out. I want this to be perfect for you.” 

Grantaire sighs and steps in closer to Enjolras, leans his head on Enjolras’ shoulder, hands resting lightly on Enjolras’ waist. “That’s not it, Chicken.”

It’s Enjolras’ turn to frown now. “Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just- I just-” Grantaire turns to look up and Enjolras. He sighs again, and the corners of his lips curl down. Enjolras wants to wipe that expression off Grantaire’s face, never wants to see him upset ever. “I wanted to do it,” he says softly eventually.

Enjolras’ eyes widen in understanding. “You wanted to bake our wedding cake.”

Grantaire nods tightly and draws away from Enjolras, letting his arms drop to his side. “I know it’s stupid,” he says, sounding absolutely miserable, and Enjolras doesn’t know how he managed to miss this for so long. The decision to not cater for the wedding or make their own cake was made _months_ ago. “We have so much else to do, it’s hectic enough as it is. But I… I wanted to.”

Enjolras takes Grantaire’s hands in his, and pulls him back into the circle of his arms. “It’s a lot of work,” he tells Grantaire, doing some quick calculations in his head. 

“I know,” Grantaire says, voice small.

“And it’s definitely not a one-man job, which is what you’ll turn it into because you’re going to obsess over the cake, and not let anyone else touch it,” Enjolras continues. “Everyone else will be too afraid to stop you from overworking yourself.”

Grantaire’s face falls even more. “I know,” he says again, and presses his face to Enjolras’ neck for just a moment, breathing in deeply. He pulls away and says again, “I know.”

The way that Grantaire is trying but not really succeeding in conjuring up a smile makes Enjolras’ mind up for him. He glances at Grantaire, who is pointedly looking away from him, and says, as casually as he can manage it, “We should do it together.”

Grantaire’s eyes snap to Enjolras’. “What?”

“We should do it together,” Enjolras repeats. “We’ll bake the wedding cake. It’ll make you happy, and I want you to be happy.” He smiles when Grantaire starts to grin. “I like working in the kitchen with you, and God knows I’m the only person who doesn’t buy the _just let me work half an hour more_ lies you try to sell. So yeah, we should do it together.”

Grantaire beams at him. “Are you sure?”

“Mm hmm,” Enjolras hums. 

“Christ, _Enjolras_ ,” Grantaire says, and then laughs, kissing Enjolras on the lips, “I’m so glad I’m marrying you.”

“I’m so glad I’m marrying you too,” Enjolras tells him, and kisses him again. “I’m guessing you already have plans?”

“Fuck, so many plans, Chicken, you have no idea,” Grantaire blurts out, excited already, as he takes Enjolras’ hand in his and starts walking again. “I know Floréal makes the best wedding cakes this side of town, and I love her, I do, and shit, that cake that she let us try just now was _phenomenal_ , but when she told us that she’d only take the job if we gave her full control over the cake, I kind of died a little inside.” He pauses for a moment and then gasps, “Oh fuck, we have to tell Floréal. She’s going to hate us so much, she’ll never want to speak to me again. I never even got her red velvet recipe out of her. I was so close to it, too. She’s going to want to throw piping tips at us, Chicken. _All the piping tips_.” 

Enjolras has seen Floréal angry before, and knows that she can be absolutely terrifying. But Grantaire is smiling widely now, as if he can’t really stop himself, swinging their joined hands between them, and Enjolras thinks that this is well worth suffering Floréal’s wrath for. 

“I’ll shield you from them,” he tells Grantaire easily, squeezing his hand. “All of them. None of the piping tips will touch you, I promise.”

And Grantaire laughs at that, bright and happy, and fuck, Enjolras is so in love with him. He wonders if they can bring the wedding date up, wonders if Grantaire would be okay with marrying him _right now_. 

He tells Grantaire, and Grantaire ends up stopping mid-pace to grab him by the lapels of his coat to pull him into a hard kiss. “Yes, _yes_ ,” Grantaire says, lips stretched in a wide grin, eyes impossibly bright. “Also no, because Courfeyrac and Jehan will actually kill us, but _yes_.” He huffs out a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re so eager to marry me.”

“I can’t believe you’re surprised,” Enjolras counters, and drops a light kiss to his nose. “It’s like you don’t know that I’m ridiculously in love with you.”

“Fuck, you can’t keep saying things like that,” Grantaire breathes out, and it amuses Enjolras to no end that he’s actually blushing. “Your wedding vows are going to make me cry so hard. No-one is ever going to take me seriously as a chef again, because I’ll go all blotchy in the face, and maybe wheeze a bit as I cry the entire ceremony through.”

“I will. I will always take you seriously, even if snot starts running down your nose,” Enjolras says solemnly, because he means it, and also because it’s fun to watch the way Grantaire goes completely red and starts to struggle with words.

“You are _the worst_ ,” Grantaire groans, plaintive, and hides his face against Enjolras’ chest. “You are the actual worst, why do I even love you so much?” he asks, voice muffled against Enjolras’ coat.

“Well, for starters, I’m baking a wedding cake with you,” Enjolras says teasingly. 

“With fondant that tastes so fucking good everyone will eat every bit of it,” Grantaire says, still huddled against Enjolras. “I’m serious, we’re not having shitty fondant on our wedding cake. It’s going to be the best damn wedding cake in the history of wedding cakes, in like ten years, we’re still going to be hearing people go all _remember that cake Enjolras and Grantaire made for their wedding?_ , and it’ll be great. Fuck, E, we’re going to be eating cake all the time just because we’ll be experimenting so much.”

“We’re not going to get any kind of rest between working on the cake and planning the wedding, are we?” Enjolras asks ruefully. 

Grantaire looks up. “It’s still not too late to pull out,” he says, but he sounds a little hesitant, like he isn’t sure if he’s actually scared Enjolras off. 

“Don’t be daft,” Enjolras says, and kisses his cheek fondly. “Let’s hear your plans, then. I’m completely at your disposal, Chef.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com/), come say hi! :D


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